Boston
by Projekt-Failure
Summary: Boston is a professor at Peninsula College in Port Angeles, Washington, where she meets Jackson Rathbone. Can meeting the right person at the right time chance all of her preconceived notions about men and life?
1. Chapter 1

**Boston.**

The weather was cold. Boston had never felt anything quite like it in her life. She was bundled from head to toe in more layers than she thought she had in her entire wardrobe. She pulled her black cap down past her ears as she sought refuge inside the little coffee shop she visited on her way to campus every morning. She let out a shaky breath and her eyes roamed the traditionally decorated little shop.

It wasn't busy--not like she thought it would be at eight in the morning. There were two people behind the counter, in black aprons, assisting the two people in line. There was an older gentleman sitting at a table near the center of the room, reading the Port Angeles daily paper. She stepped towards the counter and ordered her regular--hot chocolate; nothing fancy, nothing expensive, nothing Starbucks or what everyone else was ordering. She was a simple person, she didn't like to overdue or over-complicate things. It just wasn't in her nature. She paid the barista and took a tentative drink of her hot chocolate, making sure not to burn her tongue.

Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, Boston checked the time. She still had enough time to sit and warm up for a bit before catching the eight-thirty bus that would take her all the way to Peninsula College down the 101 where she taught three classes. She sat down by the window, taking another drink before setting the cup down on the table. She opened her messenger bag and pulled out a folder of papers she wanted to start grading.

The door opened and Boston almost immediately regretted sitting near the door as the cold wind whipped through before abruptly stopping as the door slammed shut. Her eyes narrowed and she glanced up towards the door. The man standing there looked slightly apologetic but also entertained. He ran a hand through his unruly golden curls in an attempt to remove tiny flakes of snow.

"Sorry about that," he told her. "You can, uh, stop glaring at any time, you know."

Boston pursed her lips and shrugged. The man nodded and walked towards the counter and made his order. She watched him for a minute until he turned around in which she abruptly looked back at her papers. She told herself to concentrate but soon found out she honestly couldn't and put the papers back into her bag, sighing. _Guess that's what I have office hours for--grading,_ she thought to herself.

"Hi."

She glanced up. "What?"

"I said...hi?" the man replied, looking slightly confused. "Um. It's a greeting. Most people use it in order to start up a conversation or to be polite. Both in my case," he said, shrugging.

"Good for you."

He smiled and sat down across from her, holding out his hand. "I'm Jackson."

"I'm really not interested," she said.

"Well, that's okay because I'm not really hitting on you."

Boston felt her cheeks flush slightly. "I didn't mean it like that."

"No, no, it's okay," he assured her. "It's good to know. Now I can refrain from hitting on such a pretty lady and save my efforts for someone who will be interested," he said smiling. "How are you?"

"You're mocking me."

"Only a little."

She felt herself smile, in spite of the situation.

"What's your name?"

"Boston."

He smiled. "Pretty."

"Yeah," she said candidly, not really taking it to heart. She studied him up and down, taking in his unruly hair, the glint in his eye, the smirk on his face, and the way his gaze never seemed to waver from hers. "What?" she asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable and looking away from his eyes.

"Nothing," he said. "Just killing some time."

"Before what?"

"I don't really know, yet. I don't really have any plans for today. I'm just visiting, you know? Washington isn't really my thing. I prefer weather where I can feel all of my extremities and not walk around looking like an Eskimo," he said, motioning towards the obvious layers he was bundled in. "I swear I'm not this fat."

She couldn't choke back the laugh. "You're not fat."

"Tell my mom that," he said, doing a bad impression of a teenage girl. "She's so mean."

She laughed again. "Yeah, well, being a woman is tough."

"I bet. I'm glad I'm not one," he said, taking a drink of his cup. "So what's your poison?" he asked, motioning towards her drink.

"Hot chocolate," she replied. "So if you're not into cold weather, why are you here in Port Angeles?"

"Part of my job. I'm...involved in, well, I guess we could say a project. And to get a deeper understanding, I thought I'd visit the place of origin. I'm not there yet, though. I'm just getting a better feel for all of Washington, I'd imagine," he explained.

"Uh-huh. A project?"

"Yes. A very important, top secret project," he told her, smiling. He paused. "Aren't you going to ask what it is?"

Boston smiled with him. "Well, if it really is a top secret, important project, why bother asking when I know the chances of you telling me are slim to nil?"

"Ah. You're one of those girls with a brain. I knew you were different," he said, laughing.

"Yes, well. I was ostracized for it." She rolled her eyes.

"Well, you could always ask and then try to convince me. Say, by offering to buy me a drink or taking me to dinner?"

"Yes, but it would still be a waste of time. Because if you were truly loyal to the important, top secret cause, nothing could make you tell me," she said.

Jackson nodded, pondering her argument. "But I could still get a free dinner out of it."

Boston laughed. "I thought you weren't hitting on me?"

"I'm not," he said, pausing. "Okay, maybe a little. Tell me, what do you do?"

"I'm involved with underground, important, top-secret projects," she told him.

"Which include?"

"Mm," she shook her head. "Can't say. It's too secret and important."

"And underground?"

"Of course."

"Can I buy you dinner so I can somehow manipulate you into telling me?" he asked.

She felt her stomach twist and she shrugged. "I don't know if you could manipulate me. I'm very loyal to my cause."

He smiled. "This is me asking you out on a date, Boston."

"I know," she said, looking down. "I just don't know what to say."

"Well. Saying yes would be good."

"Do you even have the time, with all of your top secret-ness?"

He smiled. "I'm sure I could find the time for someone as pretty as you."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not good with the whole compliment thing, Jackson. Besides, I don't even know anything about you besides you're here on some top secret mission."

"I was born in Singapore."

She smiled, looking down.

"You're not into the whole taking-a-chance thing, are you?"

"Not particularly."

"I can respect that. I'll give you time to think about it. I'll see you here, tomorrow morning, same time?"

She thought about it for a minute and nodded without even realizing it. "Okay. I mean, I. I guess I could do that."

"Good," he smiled. He reached for her phone and entered in his number, setting it back down in front of her. "Just in case your underground, top secret, very important group has some really important meeting that will cause you to miss our little date," he said, leaning over quickly kissing her cheek. "I'll see you in the morning, gorgeous."

She froze in her seat, watching him walk out the door and across the street, before she moved again. She glanced at her phone--8:27. She groaned, shoving her phone back into her pocket, picking up her bag and cup and she nearly ran out the door and to the bus stop. She made it there just in time and she sunk down in a seat two rows back behind the driver. She glanced out the window as the snow began to fall harder. She barely smiled and looked ahead of her again. Maybe she could say yes.

* * *

Boston sighed as she walked from the bus stop at campus to her office. She set her bags down and tossed her empty cup away. She pulled out her binder, folders, and textbook she would need and she sat down in her chair, thoughts slipping away from her lesson plan and towards the man at the coffee shop. She pushed a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear and she sighed.

"Hey girl."

She glanced towards the door. "Oh, hey girl. I wasn't expecting to see you," she laughed a little bit.

Addison, her best friend and colleague, stood in the doorway of her office. "What's up?"

"Nothing. My brain just isn't working today."

"Why come?"

Boston sighed. "No reason. I'm just being silly."

"It's about a boy! Spill!" Addison said, excited. She sat down in the chair opposite Boston's and grinned. "Now I have to know. Details. And don't skimp on the physical--it's just as important."

Boston laughed. There are no details to skimp on because there's no boy."

"Liar. You filthy liar. I'm your best friend--I can sense it. Now spill."

She sighed. "He was just in the coffee shop. No big deal. I doubt I'll even see him again," she said, shrugging it off like she always did.

"What was his name?"

"Jackson."

Addison smiled. "Did you two talk?"

"About top-secret, important and underground missions."

Addison rolled her eyes. "Seriously."

"Seriously," she smiled. "I mean, I might see him tomorrow. He asked me out, but I wasn't sure yet, so--"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. You weren't _sure_ yet? Dammit, Boston! A hot guy asks you out, you say yes!"

"How do you know he was hot?"

"Because you're blushing."

Boston rolled her eyes. "I'm the expert in behavior, here, not you. I should be reading your signs, not you reading mine."

Addison smiled. "Don't be a hater."

"I'm not," she said. "I'm just really annoyed that I'm out of hot chocolate."

Her friend smiled. "Was he cute?"

"So cute," Boston said, looking down at her gray boots. "Ridiculously cute."

"Say yes when he asks you again."

"Who says he will?"

"The Man Code," Addison said. "Guys don't like to be rejected so he'll probably ask you out until you say yes."

"Oh, wonderful. I've something to look forward to," she replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, maybe."

* * *

"Here you go."

Boston jumped in her seat and glanced up from her book. "You scared me."

Jackson smiled, sitting own on the couch in the coffee shop next to her. "I bought you some hot chocolate," he said, handing her the cup.

She smiled. "Thanks." She took the cup from him and took a small drink. She let the heat coming from the cup warm her hands.

Jackson set his cup down on the table in front of them and grabbed the book from her lap. "Serial killers? Method and madness? Really, now? A bit of easy reading?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "Um, it's. Actually a really, really good book."

"Might I ask why?"

"I'm a professor. I, uh, teach at Peninsula College here in Port Angeles."

"Oh yeah? What kind of classes?"

"Criminology and psychology."

Jackson smiled. "That's really interesting." He paused. "Wait, you look a little too young to be a professor. How old are you?"

She laughed. "Well, I'm twenty two. I got my Masters in Criminology and Psychology last year from Miami University in Ohio. I graduated from high school two years early, when I was sixteen, and I was already taking college classes my senior year, so. Yeah. It all kind of worked out," she explained.

"Do you love teaching?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's not what I've always seen myself doing but I'm really happy, so. What about you?"

Jackson looked down and reached for his cup, taking a drink of his coffee. "Top secret."

Boston's eyebrows rose.

"Not good enough?"

"Not really."

"I'm an actor."

She nodded. "Uh-huh. Like an actual actor or one of those I'm-going-to-move-to-L.A.-and-hope-for-the-best actors?"

He smiled. "Real one."

"Okay."

He sighed. "Have you...seen the movie Twilight?"

She shook her head slowly. "I've never even heard of it."

He paused, looking surprised but happy. "You...haven't heard of it?"

Boston studied his face. "Why didn't you want to tell me that?"

"Most girls who find out about that will freak out and try to molest me or only date me to get to Rob."

"I...don't even know who Rob is."

He smiled. "I'm glad you haven't seen the movie. It really makes me feel normal."

"Really?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, it's actually really nice. You're not like everyone else..."

"Um, thank you?"

"It's a compliment, I promise," Jackson assured her. "It's just... You've never even read Twilight?"

"No?"

Jackson laughed. "That makes me so happy. You've no idea."

"I've heard of it but that's it. What's it about? Why is it so big?" she asked, setting her book aside and curling her legs up on the couch, brushing off the side of her boot out of habit. "All I know is that girls in my classes wear Team Edward shirts," she laughed slightly. "Who's Edward?"

He shrugged, resting his arm on the back of the couch, his fist at his temple. "I don't know why it's so big, really," he said, pushing his hair out of his face. "I mean, it's a book serious about vampires. All the girls want to fall in love with an Edward," he rolled his eyes.

"Who do you play?"

"Jasper Hale. I'm a vampire, too. Part of Edward's 'family,' you know?" he said, using air quotes. "He falls in love with a human and craziness ensues," he explained.

"He as in Edward or Jasper?"

"Edward. Jasper already has a soul mate type lady."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"And, of course, Edward has to be gorgeous because all the girls love him?" Boston asked.

Jackson smiled. "If you're into boufant hair, sure."

"That or they all love the idea of him. Do girls see him as, like, the perfect guy or something?"

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged.

"I don't believe in perfection," Boston said. "It's unattainable. It sets people's standards too high. These girls--it's sad. They're letting some guy--who isn't even real--trick them into some false belief that men exist like him when they probably don't," she said. "If you set your standards too high, then you'll never be happy."

Jackson just looked at her.

Boston shifted a little, picking at a thread of her black scarf. "You're staring at me."

"Yes."

"Please stop," she said, unable to find the confidence to meet his eyes.

"Why?"

"Because it makes me uncomfortable. Makes me feel like everyone is picking out my flaws."

Jackson smiled, taking another drink of his coffee. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she said. "Just. One of my little quirks."

Jackson set his coffee mug aside again and reached for her hand, running his tumb over her knuckle. "I like your quirks."

"Jackson-- You don't even know me," she said softly.

"Give me teh chance to get to know you."

"I don't know if I can."

He nodded. "I can respect that. Only if you're sure. And only if you really don't want to see me again. Because I really do want to see you," he said quietly.

Boston bit her lip. "Jackson--"

"I like you. Let me take you to dinner."

"I--" she sighed, remembering what her best friend had told her. "Fuck it. Why not?"

Jackson smiled. "Is that a yes?"

She nodded. "Sure. Why not?"

He leaned in a little but stopped. "I want to kiss you but it wouldn't be appropriate because you are a lady and I will not soil your reputation," he said.

Boston laughed. "Really now?"

He nodded. "Really. However," he paused and kissed her cheek, then raised her hand and pressed her knuckles to his lips. "That won't soil your reputation."

Boston smiled. "You're something else."

"Thank you."

She sighed. "I haven't been on a date in a long time."

"Why me?"

"It's the hair."

Jackson busted out laughing, instinctively running his hand through his hair. "Please tell me you're kidding."

Boston smiled, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"I'll find out?"

"If you're lucky."

"Do you have any classes today?"

She shook her head. "Only Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. It's Thursday so I'm free."

He smiled. "So could we start our date early? Make it an all day thing?"

"If you can put up with me for that long, sure."

Jackson's smile widened. "I'm pretty sure I can handle that."

* * *

[This is my first story in well over a year, so. I can't guarantee that it's brilliant (like LAoR's Finding Family story, ahem, shameless promoting for my friend). But I'm pretty happy with how it's turning out so far. I'm going to try to update this maybe once a week or so, but college and work take up a lot of time. So, let me know what you think. Reviews, critics, etc. Just let me know your opinions so I know how to improve and all of that great stuff.]


	2. Chapter 2

**Boston.  
Chapter 02.**

"You're not bored with me already, are you?"

Boston looked up from her lunch (Taco Bell--her choice; she'd never pass up tacos), gray eyes wide and confused. "Wait, what?" she asked, picking up a napkin and wiping the side of her mouth.

Jackson smiled. "Are you bored with me?"

She shook her head. "No, no. I'm. Sorry-- Did I make you think that? Because I'm not, no, I--"

He laughed. "Calm down, girl," he said, "I was joking." He paused. "Kind of."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"Well, if we're on the subject of boredom," Boston started. "You must be bored hearing me talk about myself. So tell me something about you."

Jackson paused. "How does boredom tie in to you wanting to hear about me?"

"Hey, I never said it was a good segue," she shrugged. "I just think I deserve some information about you."

"I can see how you would think that is fair."

She laughed. "So am I gonna have to force it out of you, or?"

"Only if you want to," he said, winking.

Boston rolled her eyes. "You're horrible."

"It's been said before," he agreed.

"Where did you grow up?"

"Mainly in Texas, if you couldn't tell by my, uh, slight Southern drawl," he said, barely smiling.

Boston smiled.

"Then I guess I got into acting. I've done a few movies, some shows, but I'm really into music, too. I don't know, I just don't like to be pinned into one category. I don't like to feel cornered," he said.

"Me, neither. Which is why I got out of Ohio while I could."

"Was Ohio that bad?"

She sent him a look which could only be incorporated as a 'duh, what do you think?' "Yeah. To put it simply...yeah."

"Why was it so horrible?"

"Oh, look at that," she commented, looking at her watch. "It's late. We should go." She took a napkin and wiped her mouth before standing up. "Let's go."

"That was so, so subtle," Jackson said. "Really. Avoiding the question much?"

She looked down, scratching at the side of her head.

"Okay, I won't push it. We'll play your game for now."

"I wasn't aware I was playing a game," Boston said, picking up her bag.

Jackson smiled. "Well, I'm good at games. We'll play mine next. Whenever you're ready."

Boston sent him a sideways look. "Should I be scared?"

He nodded. "It's very possible."

She smiled.

"I think I've seen every aspect of Port Angeles that I could ever want to see," Jackson commented.

Boston laughed. "Not that there's much to see, am I right?"

"Why don't you live in Seattle?"

"Coffee isn't my thing. I do like grunge, though."

"Seriously?"

She nodded. "Nirvana is my favorite band of all time. I've never loved any band as much as I love them. That and I'm a little obsessed with Kurt. But that's expected, right? I mean, I've travelled to Joaquim, where he lived, but I figure going beyond that is just a little stalker-like and, well, creepy," she said.

Jackson laughed. "Wow, I thought you were kidding. A little. I mean. Nirvana's good."

"Good?" she asked, eyebrows shooting up. "No, no. Let me tell you a little something about good. Good is the first sunny day above sixty degrees. Good is getting to a movie theater just in time for the previews. Good is relative. Nirvana, however, is timeless. Nirvana is brilliance and--"

Jackson laughed.

Boston paused. "You're laughing at me," she stated.

"You're getting so worked up over a band."

"Nirvana is not just a band, Jackson," she said. "I could go on and on for days. You don't want to hear me talk for that long, though, so I probably won't. But trust me, I could."

Jackson smiled. "You know. When you talk about that, your eyes light up."

She rolled her eyes. "That was lame."

"I'm wounded. That wasn't a come on line, Boston, I swear. I mean, it could be," he shrugged.

"Sorry. I just get really into it, I guess," she told him.

"Is that how you are in your classes?"

Boston laughed. "I have been known to get into heated debates with my students over discrepancies in cases. And I have been known to yell sometimes, but. I can't help it. I'm really passionate about things like that so of course i get into it."

"It's good to be that passionate about something."

"Are you that way with acting?"

"I don't yell about it but, yeah, I am. And my music. Probably more with music, though," he told her.

She nodded and looked out of the window of the small bookstore. "I think it stopped snowing."

"Why did you leave Ohio so quickly?"

She looked back at Jackson, her gray eyes wide. Pausing for a second, she looked down at her hands. "Why does it matter?"

"Because it's clearly made you who you are."

"Past experiences usually do," she said quietly, fiddling her thumbs.

Jackson reached over, taking one of Boston's hands in his own. She lifted her eyes from her hands to his face. "What happened, Boston?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

He sighed, looking down. "Why don't you want to open up?"

"Because I don't know you."

"You know me better than most of the people in my life," he told her. "Just because we haven't known each other for weeks, months, or even years, doesn't mean you don't know me. The length of time isn't important here, it's the quality. And you happen to know more about me, my past, my life, my goals, than anyone else I talk to," he explained. "I've opened up to you. And maybe it's because it's easier for me to trust someone, and that's okay. I just..."

"You want reciprocity."

He shrugged, his thumb sliding over her pale knuckles. "I guess I just feel like since I've barred my soul to you, you'd allow me just a little bit of insight as to what's going on in that beautiful mind of yours."

She looked down. "I'm just. Really not good at this whole...opening up...thing. The whole...vulnerability deal? That's not me. I'm not into opening up, sharing my feelings--"

"Letting your guard down?"

"Yeah. That. I just. I'm a private person. And I like being that way. I don't like people knowing what I'm thinking or what I'm feeling. That's how I've always been."

"But why have you always been that way?" he asked. "I mean, no one is born with these brick walls around their heart. No one is born automatically not trusting anyone. It's all in experience. You have a Masters in psychology--you know this better than me."

She sighed. "Jackson. I just...can't, y'know, like flip a switch and suddenly be okay with opening up."

"I know."

"Let's stop talking about this. It's crossing into uncomfortable and awkward territory."

"For you or for me?"

"For me."

Jackson just watched her face for a minute. "Do you let anyone in?"

"Yes."

"Besides your best friends?"

"Oh. Then no," she said, shaking her head.

"Why not?"

"Well... Not trusting people is trendy now," she said, smiling slightly.

Jackson smiled in spite of himself.

"I'm sorry, you know I just...don't do the whole opening up thing. I told you that. But if you really want to know, I guess. It's. It's because my mother left my family when I was eight. My father rapidly deteriorated from there in every way, my sister gave up and left when she was sixteen because she didn't want to deal with him or me," she shrugged. "That's a part of it."

"So that's why you don't trust anyone?"

She shook her head. "That's why I'm weary of people. I'm not so damaged that I don't trust anyone, you know?"

"I... Not really," he admitted.

Boston laughed. "Well, it's like this. I don't mind opening up. It's difficult but I can do it. I'm just not good at it. Because of my situation growing up, I just became weary, right? Because what if I tell someone everything and they leave? Or, well, what if they stay?"

Jackson nodded. "Yeah, I. I get that."

Boston smiled.

"Do you think you'll ever get to the point where you'll be secure enough to relinquish that control and trust someone completely?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. But I really am trying. I've gotten closer since I've moved here, believe it or not. Addison, my best friend, she... She can vouch for that."

"Maybe it's just different for me to understand and comprehend because my childhood was so different."

"I wouldn't have even called it 'childhood' n my case. I never really had the chance to be a kid. I had to grow up too fast."

"And that's unfortunate. You've missed out on so much. It really isn't fair."

Boston shrugged. "Life's not fair."

"Yeah, but--" Jackson sighed and rolled his eyes as his cell phone rang. "Sorry, I just--" he reached for his phone. "Sorry. It could just be a--"

"Top secret important mission? Got it. Go ahead," she said.

"Thanks. Excuse me."

Boston stood up and walked around the table, eyeing books on the shelves, wanting to give him a little privacy. She could hear Jackson talking quietly on his phone, almost as if he didn't want her to hear for a reason. She shrugged it off--told herself to stop being so paranoid. She smoothed down the front of her jeans before hooking her thumbs in her pockets.

Jackson muttered something, angry and unintelligible, snapping his phone shut. "I'm sorry about that. It was--"

"It's okay. You don't have to explain anything," she assured him, smiling softly.

"I know, I just," he sighed. "I just have to go."

"Oh. Okay," she said.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she told him, shrugging. "No big deal, right?"

Jackson grabbed his jacket. he pulled it on, looking awkward and nervous, uncomfortable. "I'll, um."

"Coffee shop in the morning?" she asked, surprised by how hopeful (and desperate) she thought she sounded.

"I--" He sighed again. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be there." He paused, then shook his head. He turned toward the door, stopped, turned back to Boston. "Well, shit."

"What?" Boston asked, confused.

"Nothing," he said, leaning in suddenly and pressing his lips against her. He pulled away just as quick. "Okay."

"Okay?" she asked, cheeks flushing slightly, still confused.

"I have to go. I'll...see you in the morning," he said, rushing out of the bookstore.

* * *

Boston stood here, still, utterly confused. She wasn't sure why he was acting so strange and she couldn't really ask him then. _Maybe in the morning_, she thought to herself.

Boston waited at the coffee shop the next morning--an hour later than she should have. Something inside of her twisted. He wasn't there. And he certainly wasn't going to show. Another hour later, she gave up.

He wasn't coming.

She left.

* * *

"What's up with you?"

Boston sighed, setting her bag down on her desk "I'm frustrated."

Addison nodded. "I can tell." She sat down in the folding chair agains the wall. "What happened?"

Another sigh. "I feel so pathetic. It's about a guy."

Addison smiled.

"And it's not good frustration."

"There is no such thing as good frustration."

"Yes, there is."

Addison rolled her eyes. "No, there's no."

"Yeah."

"Okay, fine, tell me what good frustration is, Professor Hawthorne. I'm dying to know."

Boston glared at her friend. "Good frustration is the kind that you know is gonna pay off and you're frustrated over something, or someone, that ultimately makes you happy."

"That's bull and you know it."

"Screw you."

"Okay, now talk to me. What's wrong."

"Well. Okay, you know the guy I met two days ago at the coffee shop? Jackson?"

"The hot one? Yes."

Boston sighed. "Well. We hung out all day yesterday. Literally, all day. From eight am to, like, four. He got some call, said he had to go, kissed me, and left. He said he'd meet me at the coffee shop this morning and he...never showed. I waited two hours," she explained.

"Gay."

Boston paused. "What?"

"Well, I mean. It's an option," she told her, shrugging.

Boston rolled her eyes. "I know I shouldn't be too upset. But I am. I...let my stupid guard down. A little. And I let myself think he liked me and then he blew me off." She sighed. I'm a fool."

"You're not a fool," she said. "Look. Maybe there were extenuating circumstances? Maybe his dog died?"

She felt herself smile lightly. "That is horrible to even think about."

"Don't be too upset. Maybe he'll meet you there Monday? Just don't write him off too quick, okay?" she said, patting her best friend's shoulder.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess. I don't know. I just. I'm upset and I don't want to be. And I really don't want to think about it anymore.

* * *

Days passed and Boston found herself waiting at the coffee shop every morning.

He never showed.

Weeks passed and she found herself waiting less and less. One day, though, she found herself not waiting at all. She found herself thinking about him less and less. Until she stopped thinking about him at all.

* * *

  
[A/N: Did I ever mention I suck for taking so long? Here's my excuse. I tore all the ligaments and tendons in my left arm, so I've been in a sling and a brace for about three weeks so I couldn't really type. It's not completely healed yet, I still have a few more weeks, but here you go. I know it's not amazing and yes, Jackson will be back in the story. This chapter was the necessary to get him out of the picture so I could bring him back in. I have a plan, I promise. Okay, so. Um. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm on spring break next week so I'm hoping I can get out chapter three. This chapter is for my friend, Felice, who is amazing and honestly kind of reminded me I still had to finish this, haha, so it's for her. Also, go read LAoR's story, because I believe it's still amazing. And um. Have a good week.]


	3. Chapter 3

**Boston  
Chapter 3**

"He looks good," Addison said, dropping a magazine on Boston's desk.

She glanced down, then back to her computer screen. "He looks the same in all the pictures you've shown me this past month, Addy. You're really making the "don't think about him" thing difficult, you know?"

Addison shrugged. "I'm just good like that."

Boston looked up, briefly. "Is that all?"

"You're so testy."

"I'm not testy," she said, reaching into her messenger bag and pulling out three thick manila envelopes. "I have three classes worth of essays to grade, two finals to write, a study guide for each final, and I have to finish the participation, attendance, and discussion board grades for all two hundred plus of my students. I'm not testy--I'm just busy."

Addison nodded. "That's why you teach history and do multiple choice for all of your tests. It's much easier."

"And less fair. Some people--"

"Are better at expressing themselves through essays, yeah, yeah. I get it, B," she said, smiling. "Just two weeks until finals. Are you teaching any summer classes?"

"No," she said, shoving the folders back into her bag. A notebook fell off her desk. She didn't pick it up--she just went back to typing up a study guide for one of her intro classes.

"What's this?"

"What's what?" she asked, not looking up. "Dammit. I forget if we covered the last half of personality disorders in this class. It was in the book so they should have read it anyway... I'll put it on here anyway."

"Boston."

"But I don't want to be unfair. I just want to cover everything. I might just do it as extra credit, you know? Just in case."

"Boston."

"But I really hate giving extra credit--"

"Boston!"

"What?!"

Addison sighed, picking up the letter that was exposed by the notebook that fell a few minutes before. "What's this?"

Boston bit her lip, shaking her head. "It's nothing. Nothing important."

Her best friend smiled. "Boston. You got the job at NYU? You said you did horrible in your intervivew over winter break. You said there was no way you were going to get it."

Boston tried to hide her smile but failed. "Yeah, I didn't want to get my hopes up, you know? But.... I did. I mean. I didn't think I would, but. Yeah, I got the job" she laughed.

"That's so exciting! That's such an amazing school!" She paused, reading the letter. "Wait, did you accept it or not? The teaching position?"

Boston sighed. "I... No. Yes? I don't know if I should or not. But I want to. Mr. Jacobs wants an answer by Friday afternoon."

"You have to! It's such an amazing opportunity!"

"I know."

"Then why are you hesitating?"

She sighed. "I really don't know. I just. There are so many things to....to think about. Moving all the way across the country?"

"You've done it before," Addison said, shrugging.

"Yeah, but I really had to at that point. I didn't have any other choice. I do now. I've. I've built a life here. I have friends, a routine--"

"You can have that on the east coast, too, you know."

Boston sighed, taking the letter from her friend, re-reading it like she had at least fifty times before.

"It's warmer there."

She smiled. "Are you trying to make me leave? Are you trying to get rid of me?"

Addison laughed. "No. I'm not. I just know how great of an opportunity this is for you."

Boston nodded. "I know... I want to. I mean. I've honestly already packed a few things..."

"You should do it."

She smiled. "You know. I think I will."

* * *

"We should live in Forks," Kellan said, zipping up his jacket as he climbed out of Jackson's rental car.

"Yeah, no," Jackson said, laughing. "I much prefer the warmth of the south."

Kellan yawned. "Tell me again why we're up so early?"

"Antiquing," Jackson lied, eying the coffee shop they were standing in front of.

"At least I get coffee out of it," he said, shrugging. "Damn, it really is cold here."

"It's sixy degrees in May. In Washington. I think that might be a heat wave."

"Yeah, well, I spent most of my time in L.A. so this is cold to me," Kellan said, laughing. "Why are we just standing here? Why aren't we in the coffee shop, drowning the early morning blues in steaming hot coffee?"

"Yeah, let's go in," Jackson said, scratching the back of his head. He opened the door and stepped into the coffee shop, instantly looking around. She wasn't there. "Dammit."

Kellan paused. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Liar. What's up?"

Jackson sighed. "Okay, so. I was here a few months ago, right? And there was...this girl."

Kellan smiled. "Okay, I got ya. Was she hot?"

Jackson laughed. "Yeah, she. She was. Is. Yeah."

"And she's not here?"

He shook his head. "No, she. She's usually here every morning. Which is why I made you get up really early. I know it's stupid, I just thought..." he trailed off. "Never mind. I was stupid to think she'd still be here at the same time, like, four months later."

"You're not stupid," Kellan said, stepping up to the counter and ordering his drink.

"Yeah," Jackson said, sighing, rolling his eyes.

"You want anything?"

He shook his head.

Kellan just looked at him. "Okay, relax, man. It's just a girl. You'll get over it, you'll move on, you'll find someone who will sleep with you just to get to Rob, and all will be back to normal."

Jackson paused. "Yeah, that's. Thanks for, uh, putting my life back into perspective for me. That was. That was really nice of you. Really. You're a true friend, Kellan."

He shrugged. "I do what I can." He paid the employee and took a drink of his coffee. "Okay, what are we doing now?"

"I don't know. Let's just kill some time in Best Buy or something. Is that cool?"

Kellan smiled. "Yeah, yeah. I'm thinking about buying a new laptop, anyway. And I think I should invest in buying all of the seasons of House. What do you think about that?"

"House is amazing. Purchase away."

* * *

"Okay, no, no, no, no, no. See, that's just not going to cut it for me," Boston said, shaking her head. "You-- You-- You-- Okay, you. You work with computers. You can fix them. Now fix mine, please."

Carl, a member of the Geek Squad, looked down at the laptop in his hand, then back up to the woman in front of him. "Ms. Hawthorne, with all do respect, your computer is dead. I can't fix this."

Boston laughed, bitterly and without humor. "Carl. We're friends, right? You sold me this laptop. You assured me it would suit all of my needs. And it did. It did," she said, nodding. "And now, it's messing up. It's freezing and it's all...fucked up. And I have files saved on there. Files!"

"Did you back them up on a flash drive?"

"Of course I did! But that's not the point here! The point is, my flash drive is in my office on campus. I'm a professor, Carl. Finals start on Monday. I need my damn documents and I need my damn computer! I need you to fix this for me!"

"Ms. Hawthorne, I need you to calm down," Carl said, slowly. "Your computer is dead," he repeated. "Since you already have your files backed up, all the ones you need, I suggest you invest in a new laptop. I can even show you the newest ones. But, for all of my talents and knowledge with computers, there's no way to fix this. It's just...old."

Boston sighed. "I freaked out, didn't I?"

Carl nodded.

"Did I yell?"

He shrugged. "A little."

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

She sighed again. "So I'm fucked?"

"Well, I wouldn't use that terminology, but. Yeah, you are," he said.

"Goddammit," she groaned. "Fine, fine, just. Just bring me the newest HP and I'll get it. I can't be without one."

Carl nodded. "Sure thing, Ms. Hawthorne. Any specific color?"

She shrugged. "I don't mind, Carl. Thanks."

"No problem. I'll have them hold it up front for you for whenever you're done shopping."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Boston turned around, whipping out her cell phone to call Addison when she stopped. "Jackson?"

* * *

"You're seriously getting all the seasons of House?"

"Yes."

Jackson laughed. "Okay. I'm gonna check out digital cameras. Cam broke mine during the baseball scene. Jerk."

Kellan smiled.

"Pick out a good movie for me, man," he said, walking over to the cameras when he stopped.

"Jackson?"

"Boston."

"Um. Hi," she said, awkwardly, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hi," he replied, breathlessly.

She shifted her feet, looking down at her shoes. "So, um. How-- How are the top secret projects?"

Jackson smiled. "They're, uh. They're good. And yours?"

"They were great until my laptop decided to fuck up and die," she said, sighing. "Now I have to get a new one and I wasn't going to until the fall after I moved, but." She shrugged. "Guess I will now."

"Wait, you're moving?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I, uh. Got a job at New York University. A really, really prestigious job, really, so. I start in the fall. I'm moving in the beginning of June."

Jackson nodded. "I, uh. Didn't know."

"Yeah. That's what happens when someone runs off and doesn't answer someone elses phone calls," Boston said, quiet and bitter.

"I-- Yeah," he said, sighing, looking at the ground. "I had a good reason."

"I didn't ask if you did or not."

"I had to--"

"Look, you don't have to explain yourself to me, Jackson. We hardly know each other," she said, shrugging.

Jackson sighed. "Boston, I want to explain myself."

"Funny, because I don't _want_ to hear it," she said. "I just want to get my laptop, buy the Hell in a Cell DVD I've been wanting for months, go home, and pack."

"Boston, please."

She looked down at her shoes again. "I just think it's...for the best if we say hi and move on. Because I'm not going to see you again, so."

"Who says you're not going to?"

"Well...the fact that you tend to disappear? And you're a movie star--you're not going to be hanging around Port Angeles much longer. And I won't be either. You'll go your separate way and I'll go mine eventually, so let's make that eventually now," Boston explained. "It makes much more sense. It's not like we have anything tying us to one another anyway."

Jackson paused. "What about the fact that I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day I left Port Angeles three months ago?"

She held her breath. "Jackson."

"It's true. It's not some lame come-on line either," he said, laughing slightly. "I don't know why I left without explaining to you what was going on. I think I got scared and...ran," he shrugged. "But I've felt horrible about it. And I knew if I answered your calls, I would've felt even worse just hearing the disappointment in your voice."

She sighed.

"I never wanted to hurt you. That's why I came back, you know? I mean, why else would I be here?" he laughed. "You're the only good thing about this town, so."

"I hate nice people," she said, groaning.

"Yeah, they're... They're horrible," Jackson said, rolling his eyes. "Please don't give up on me."

She sighed.

"Meet me for coffee. In the morning."

"Will you show?"

"Guess you'll have to just to find out," he said, smiling.

She just looked at him. "Ten am."

"Later than it used to be, huh?"

She shrugged. "It's a Monday. I'm sleeping in and I don't give my first exam until noon thirty, so."

"Noon thirty?"

"Yes."

"You mean twelve thirty?"

"No, I mean noon thirty," she said. "It's more fun to say. I'll see you in the morning." She smiled at him and then walked around him. She picked up the DVD she mentioned before and met up with her new laptop at the checkout. She let out a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding and walked to her car. She set her laptop in the trunk and got behind the wheel, immediately calling her best friend.

"Addison. You'll never, ever guess who I just saw in Best Buy..."

* * *

  
A/N: I think I'm getting a little better at the whole updating quickly thing? I know it's a bit shorter of a chapter but this is probably about the length that they'll stay. I can write them quicker and all of that. Anyway. They meet ~again. I'm still not exactly sure where I'm going with this story but I have a feeling that I'll figure it out as I'm writing it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I will truly update as soon as I can. Thank you for reading. Reviews are pleasing but definitely not necessary. Don't feel obligated.


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